


Brothers in Arms

by bela013



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 14:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bela013/pseuds/bela013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A view of Melisandre and Stannis at the wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers in Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cassanabaratheon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassanabaratheon/gifts).



'Did you think this would be easy?' there wasn't mockery that I hear in her voice, it was more like anger and something close to disgust. I wasn't ready to hear something like this from her, not from her, the woman who helped me this far and in private held my hand. 'I know you are not a green boy, Stannis. And I would appreciate if you didn't behave like one.'  
He felt that he should reprehend her from talking in such manner with her king, but there was something in the way her eyes shone, red and not red, all at the same time. She was crying, or she would be in a moment, for tears pooled around her eyes already.  
'I knew and I know that war is no easy matter, and I don't need you to remind me of it, woman' her back was turned to me now, and I'm sure that those tears must have started to fall. Prideful creature, hiding herself behind that cool smile of hers. _Just like I hide behind my scowls._  
'But will you still know it in the future?', the room was a bit chilly, even with her there with him, even with her hearth burning high, I guess that was the reality on the Wall.  
'You make no sense woman,' I throw myself at the chair she keep by the fire, having my little moments of peace away from those who only saw me as king. 'Even less sense that you usually make' there was the sound of her chuckles, chocking on her throat, on her silents sobs.  
'It's all a matter of perceptive, Stannis.' she spoke again, and this time, her voice was clear, as if she wasn't hiding her pain away. 'One day, you'll think of all I have ever told, and it will all suddenly make sense. The last part of a puzzle will be found, and all will be as clear to you, as it can be to me'  
A round face with round red eyes is turned to me now, not angry, nor sad, it was not the mask of the witch either, it was the woman who now stared into my own eyes.  
'Sometimes, I feel like you see me as a child to be lead around by your words' she paid me and my words no mind while making way to me, and posing herself on my lap. She sat sideways, with her legs over mine and the left arm behind my neck. It was finally warm enough for me with her so near.  
'We are all nothing but children in the end' there was tenderness in her touch, long fingers stroking the scruff under my chin, nose rubbing in the spot right under my ear.  
'Children of R'hllor?' I pressed my hands on her waist, feeling her warmth, her hip bone, all as if the red cloth of her dress wasn't even there. She smelled of apples and burned wood. How did she managed to smell like apples in the middle of the North, buried under so much snow at the Wall was beyond me.  
'Just children in general' a kiss on my cheek, and her head in place in the hollow of my neck. 'All lost and loud, not knowing what is happening and hungry for knowledge as well as freedom'  
It was weird of her to just toss a change of talking about her god away, but it was also very comforting. Knowing that she was not mine was always a given, but knowing she could also just belong to herself was good. It was good not to have all your trust in one place, for one day that trust will be broken, and it's only a matter of time.  
What am I even thinking? How foolish of me to imagine her not knowing this already. The woman that traveled half the world, to fix destiny herself, never asking from her god, just offering. Melisandre was no woman to sit idle and wait for things to workout. Melisandre sees herself as the extension of her god. _The same way as she sees me._  
We are all but different people, from a different background, from a different culture, as well as we could be the very same. She breaths out, and I breath in. And the future is nothing but red and snow.


End file.
